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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26228641">By This Light</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathrheas/pseuds/cathrheas'>cathrheas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dirty Talk, M/M, Past Sexual Assault, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:01:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,235</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26228641</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathrheas/pseuds/cathrheas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashe and Sylvain know each other almost too well, after years of venting to each other about past encounters. With all his cards laid out on the table, Ashe wonders if he has anything left to lose.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Sylvain Jose Gautier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>2020 Ultra Rarepair Big Bang</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>By This Light</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello!</p><p>This fic was made as part of a collab with <a href="https://twitter.com/pillver">Pillver</a> for the Ultra Rarepair Big Bang! Please go give them a follow—they did such great work, and I had so much fun doing this!! :D</p><p>See the full art <a href="https://twitter.com/pillver/status/1300662542050586624">here!</a></p><p>CW for past sexual assault! Please take care when reading.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Old habits die hard, I guess... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Ashe cursed himself every time he looked over his own shoulder, but found himself unable to stop. The Gautier estate was, for lack of a better word, too fancy. It was the kind of place Ashe felt nervous around, years after his thieving days were over, because it was a huge target. Places like the Gautier estate had plenty of material, left and right. Silverware, vases, paintings, jewelry—it was scattered everywhere, waiting to be stolen and sold for dinner money. Ashe almost felt his stomach growling as he walked through the halls; it was only when he was starving that he had approached big houses like these. And big houses almost always got him caught. There he was, a supposed “guest” of the Margrave, and yet he was waiting to be hauled out by his scrawny arms, tossed onto the street...</p><p> </p><p>“Mister Ubert?”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe had been so busy looking around, he hadn’t realized that he was falling out of step with the servant who was guiding him to Sylvain’s office. She looked back at him, a bit sympathetic. “Sorry,” he mumbled, switching to a half-jog to catch up. She did walk rather briskly...Ashe wasn’t a slow walker by any means, but even after he’d taken his head out of the clouds, it was hard to keep up.</p><p> </p><p>It might have been the plush carpet beneath his feet that he was scared to dirty with the soles of his boots; it might have been his still-wandering eyes, checking behind him every few seconds; or, most likely, it might have been the joint anticipation and anxiety behind seeing Sylvain.</p><p> </p><p>He’d certainly missed Sylvain. It may not have seemed like he would in their academy days, when he was hiding Sylvain from hordes of bloodthirsty women. But Ashe’s hindsight kicked in much more quickly than other people’s did, and weeks after their graduation, he found himself missing the antics, looking at his door and waiting for Sylvain to come knocking to talk about wooing women, and knighthood—which, more often than not, turned out to be the same subject.</p><p> </p><p>Admittedly, Sylvain was the same when they reunited five years later, in all but his looks. Sylvain was older when they were in the academy, so it seemed like he grew a lot less. Ashe, on the other hand, felt like a different person. So, it was nice to return to the monastery and get that friendly clap on the back from Sylvain, with not even a hint of unsteadiness on his feet.</p><p> </p><p>“You grew up real well, Ashe,” he said, beaming. Then, with a comically deep voice, “You’re a <em> man, </em> now.”</p><p> </p><p>And of course, the conversation turned to romance. Ashe had felt a little uneasy, at first; it was strange to hear Sylvain complaining about women, rather than chasing after them. He seemed to be venting a bit, and Ashe was the kind of person that people often vented to, because he was good at sitting there and listening.</p><p> </p><p>A few periodic chats later, Sylvain finally asked, “What about you, Ashe? Any luck with the ladies? Or lack thereof?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s complicated,” Ashe had said. And he’d figured Sylvain would let it go, and chalk it up to a few awkward flirtations or a bad breakup, but Sylvain didn’t leave it at that. He pushed, and prodded, and opened up a little bit more than Ashe had expected him to, and maybe it had been a bad idea to pilfer a bottle of wine from the dining hall, because Ashe had never, ever even <em> thought </em> to blurt out <em> I think I might be gay </em> to Sylvain Jose Gautier of all people.</p><p> </p><p>They still had time to chat every now and then, reminiscing about past lovers, ones who they both agreed were best kept in their memories, but the war dragged on, and even Sylvain realized it wasn’t a good time for love. “People like us aren’t meant for true love, anyway,” he had said, near the end of one of their talks.</p><p> </p><p>He had laughed, but Ashe’s heart had ached. They had discussed...some heavy stuff. Ashe didn’t talk about his thieving days much, especially to noblemen. It made him sick to watch them clutch their pearls and hide their luxuries, all the while frowning down at him and telling him how bad it must have felt to steal to survive. And he didn’t blame them, either. A thief was a thief in their eyes. It <em> hurt, </em> but he didn’t blame them. He just knew not to tell them anything else.</p><p> </p><p>But when Sylvain looked him in the eyes, face drooping with concern, and said, “Goddess, Ashe, that’s awful”, Ashe wanted to tell him everything. And so, he did. In whatever secret moments they could find, Ashe would say words that he hadn’t yet figured out how to form. <em> Did whatever I had to to get by. Did whatever they’d tell me to. Did it even if I didn’t want to... </em></p><p> </p><p>He kept waiting for Sylvain to tell him to stop, for the awkward stares to set in, but he got nothing but a guiding hand on his back and a puppy-dog face. Sylvain might not have been able to put words to the pity, or perhaps guilt, that he felt for Ashe, but that hand and that face might have been enough. </p><p> </p><p>Ashe was embarrassed the next day when Sylvain approached him, but nothing had changed. Sylvain came to Ashe’s room, a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand, and they spoke again. That time it was Sylvain who was talking, about how he’d been hurt, how he tried to fix it. They were similar, Ashe learned, but they were opposites. Ashe wanted to run from relationships, from sex, from the very thing that hurt him; Sylvain dug his heels in, fought back.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe you’ve got the right idea, though,” he’d said, laughing away his sniffles. “Fucking everything that moves hasn’t worked so far. One of these days...”</p><p> </p><p>After that, Ashe wasn’t so bashful. Wasn’t so embarrassed. Right up until the war got into full swing, they’d take turns, rattling off about who’d hurt them, when, how it felt. Ashe had always assumed that Sylvain had someone better to talk to, but it really seemed like nobody else wanted to listen, writing him off as a philanderer. And sure, Ashe had, too, but it was a little different, hearing him talk about it. Hearing him talk about being used, about letting it happen...</p><p> </p><p>It had been a while since they’d talked. After the war, Ashe had to return to his siblings, and Sylvain had to return to his lands. Ashe felt a little freer, maybe. Like Sylvain, he hadn’t really had anyone to talk to before then, and those nights—whether they were drowned in wine or not—were cathartic. Ashe missed them, even considered sending letters to Sylvain to make up for the time they were losing, but putting his words to paper seemed absurd. Instead, he kept Sylvain in his thoughts, imagining conversations between them whenever he felt like he had something to say.</p><p> </p><p>And after months of made-up chats, Ashe was finally going to get the real thing, for the first time in a while. He was afraid that something had changed, somehow, that Sylvain had come to despise him. After all, he might have been the very thing that Sylvain hated: a nobody who was using their body to get ahead. The people Sylvain spoke of were women, Crest-chasers, but did it really make a difference what they were after?</p><p> </p><p>And although it pained him to think about it too much—why was it painful, he wondered—Ashe couldn’t help thinking, what if Sylvain had finally settled down?</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain had been the one to invite Ashe over, and he hadn’t mentioned anything about finding a wife in the letter. Would he have, anyway? It wasn’t like his views towards marriage were the most optimistic. Ashe wouldn’t have been surprised if he casually mentioned it as he uncorked a bottle. “Oh, yeah, by the way, my wedding’s in a month. You gonna be there, or what?”</p><p> </p><p>“...Mister Ubert, are you feeling okay?”</p><p> </p><p>That time the servant girl seemed much more concerned, wringing her hands subtly. “Oh, sorry. Yes, I’m fine.”</p><p> </p><p>She gestured toward a set of dark oak double doors in front of Ashe. It seemed like she’d been gesturing at it for...quite some time. Ashe hadn't even realized they'd stopped walking. “The Margrave’s study,” she said, stepping back with a curtsey. “He told me to leave you two.”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe hadn’t seen Sylvain ordering servants around as in-character in the first place...he would have felt a little weird being escorted in to meet one of his friends, anyway. “Thank you, so much. And...” Ah, would it be strange to apologize for his spacey behavior? Ashe had never felt so mixed up before. “Um, have a good evening.”</p><p> </p><p>“You as well, Mister Ubert.” Another curtsey, and the servant was off, walking nearly twice as fast without Ashe having to keep in step.</p><p> </p><p>Once she’d rounded the corner, Ashe stood at the doors, fretting. Sylvain might have heard them from behind it. In that case, Ashe definitely should have opened the door as soon as possible, right? Otherwise, Sylvain would wonder what was taking him so long. But on the other hand—</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> For the Goddess’ sake, Ashe, just open the door! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Ashe rolled his shoulders back, sucking in a breath, before turning the ornate knob to one of the doors and pushing it open.</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain startled, and so did Ashe, a fierce look jumping into both of their eyes for a moment; a sad habit of years past. Once recognition hit them both, Ashe sighed, and Sylvain laughed. “You’re not here to kill me, are you?”</p><p> </p><p>His voice hadn’t changed. Or, had it? Ashe couldn’t think straight. He was...happy. Sylvain was in a silk dress shirt, unbuttoned a bit at the top, with the same lopsided smile that Ashe was used to seeing. Maybe he hadn’t changed.</p><p> </p><p>“I hope that doesn’t mean people have been making attempts on your life, Sylvain.” Ashe shut the door behind him, then stood a bit awkwardly, taking in the room. Plenty of furs scattered about the room, a Faerghan style at its core. Even more in style for Faerghus was the fireplace, kept warm with kindling.</p><p> </p><p>“A few, but that’s standard. Besides, those guys weren’t on the front lines against the Empire like you and I were. They’re nothing to me. If <em> you </em> really <em> were </em> coming to kill me, <em> then </em> I might be worried.” Sylvain stood, and...was he always that much taller? Of course, he probably hadn’t <em> grown </em> since they’d seen each other, but he felt...imposing. He came in for a hug, and Ashe took it gratefully, trying not to let his desperation show. He’d needed a hug, he’d needed a friend, and...saying all of that would definitely ruin it, so he took the brief hug with joy. When they pulled back, Sylvain waved his hand at the chair opposite his desk, leaning against the desk itself. Ashe took a seat, smiling up at him. “How was the ride here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Um...cold. But that’s to be expected,” Ashe said, chuckling. He’d tried to get into more of a <em> chuckle </em> than a <em> giggle </em> lately, wondering if it’d make him seem more—appealing? To who, he wasn’t sure. “It was fine, otherwise.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry. Dinner’s in an hour or so, I think.” Was that why the servant was in such a hurry? She might have had to help in the kitchen... “It’ll be nice and hot. Warm up those chilly bones.” Ashe shuddered at the sound of it. He wanted to ask what it was, but it didn’t matter. He'd eat anything. “How’ve you been, Ashe? I know we’ve exchanged letters, but it’s always different in person, y’know? Nobody wants to say, ‘actually, I’ve been doing pretty damn awful’ in a letter.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s true, but either way, I haven’t been awful at all. Just...enjoying life, I guess. Five years...takes a lot out of you. A lot from you, rather,” Ashe said brushing his bangs out of his eyes. “I guess you don’t have that luxury, Margrave.”</p><p> </p><p>The teasing tone at the end of his voice didn’t go ignored, getting a snicker from Sylvain. “Oh, you know me, Ashe. When I wanna relax, I find the time. Trust me. It’s a little hard, though. Ingrid, Felix, Dimitri...they’re all pretty busy with Kingdom stuff, y’know? Especially Dimitri. It’s gotten to the point where I’m playing chess with the servants, ‘cause there’s nobody else! Not like I think my servants are...well, you know what I mean. Not a lot of familiar faces.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’d be happy to play chess with you,” Ashe said. “I don’t know much about strategies, but I know how all of the pieces move. That’s enough, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Enough to get you in checkmate within ten minutes, sure,” Sylvain teased. “Nah, we don’t have to play chess. Honestly, I didn’t have anything in mind when I invited you to come stay. I just figured we’d find something to do. I hate being bored, and my mind tends to find a way to keep things lively, so don’t worry about things getting stale.”</p><p> </p><p>“The thought never crossed my mind.” </p><p> </p><p>Well, it had, but he hadn’t really been thinking about getting bored. Rather, he had wondered what, exactly, they would do. But Ashe found himself unable to think about that for too long—if he did, his mind started to wander. Sylvain quickly brought him back to attention; his voice, although smooth and soft, tended to command the eyes and ears of a room. “In that case, let’s finish catching up before dinner, eh? I’ve gotta ask the million-gold question, of course...”</p><p> </p><p>Oh, and there he goes. “Is it about...the dating thing?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep. And don’t think I forgot,” Sylvain said, tapping his finger to his temple, “where we left off. Y’know, about...your preferences.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Goddess, help me. </em> “Yeah. Well, I’m glad you didn’t. That’d be awkward to explain again...”</p><p> </p><p>“Would it? I find it easy. Especially with me. I’m not too hard to talk to, am I?”</p><p> </p><p>“Honestly, Sylvain, I think me talking to you was the first time I’d ever said I was gay out loud,” Ashe said, slowly, as he combed through his memory. “Not even to myself, when I was alone in my room...” Ashe was a bit stricken by how quickly the conversation dipped into such a somber tone. It was Sylvain who had brought up the subject, knowing it was so tender, but Ashe felt guilty for continuing to talk. Instead of digging deeper, Ashe turned the tables. “Well? How about you? Any luck?”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain sucked his teeth, looking off at the fireplace. Ashe studied Sylvain’s face for a bit—his strong jawline, his tired but youthful eyes—then turned to the fireplace himself. He turned back when he heard Sylvain speak. “Take your jacket off, man. No need to be all stuffed up. It’s warm in here, isn’t it? Or should I add more kindling?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, no, it’s warm enough. I’ll just...” Ashe stood, shuffling out of his heavy winter coat. He’d worn a plain black buttoned shirt under a navy hoodie, a stark contrast to Sylvain’s white silky top. He felt a little exposed, seeing Sylvain’s broad shoulders against his fairly skinny ones. “Okay. There. So? How about it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, uh...let’s just say I’m glad I didn’t put it in a letter. It’s best said in person.”</p><p> </p><p><em> He’s getting married. He’s getting married, isn’t he? He must be. </em>Why was Ashe’s heart beating like that? It was...excitement, right? He was excited for his friend, who was maybe possibly about to announce his engagement. “It is? I mean, um, what is?”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain snickered, folding his arms. “You still look so tense! I thought taking the jacket off would help.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not tense, just—just curious.” Ashe drummed his fingers against his knee. Sylvain was being playful, too playful for Ashe’s active nerves. “Are you to be wed, soon? Is that it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oof,” Sylvain said, laying a hand over his heart. “No need to hit below the belt, Ashe?”</p><p> </p><p><em> Ah...I was wrong? I guess I jumped to conclusions, there, didn’t I... </em> “I wasn’t trying to, I swear,” Ashe said, laughing weakly. “I just assumed that you’d wanna mention it in person as opposed to in a letter, if you were engaged.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, no. I wouldn’t really care about that,” Sylvain said, waving his hand dismissively. “I’d write my engagement down on a piece of parchment I picked up from the dirt and mail it out, if I felt like it. Eh, well, maybe not...but you get what I’m saying. No, it’s not that, Ashe. I’m not getting married.”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe tried not to sigh in relief. “Not yet, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not yet. But, I think I’m ready to settle down, I guess...” Sylvain sighed through his nostrils, bringing his hand to his hair and toying with it. “I was with someone recently.” And just like that, Ashe went cold again. “And I...I kinda realized that I’m getting kinda sick of it. It’s fun to flirt, y’know? It’s fun. And sometimes, I can’t even help it. But sleeping around on purpose is...it starts to wear on you, and at some point, you start to think, ‘Goddess, what the hell am I really doing’? At least, that’s how it is for me.”</p><p> </p><p>“It might be a part of growing up. I don’t mean to say that you’re childish, since we’ve already talked about why you chase skirts like you do, but...sometimes you just <em> realize </em> things over time. It’s happened to me, before, too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really? Good. Because, of course, I’m still me, and...like I said, flirting is really damn fun. But—and forgive me for not sounding romantic, or whatever—sometimes I wonder if it’d be even more fun to just flirt with the same person, day in and day out, to see them smile.”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe scoffed. Did Sylvain realize how ridiculous (and cute, maybe, just a little) he sounded? He had to have been doing it on purpose. “Sylvain, nowadays, they call that kind of a thing ‘relationship’? Which eventually leads to ‘marriage’?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ashe, when did you get so sarcastic?! You’re hurting my feelings here,” Sylvain said, playing it up for laughs with a pout. “Well, I probably won’t be getting married anytime soon, anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe wasn’t even surprised, at that point, by the relief that he felt. So, no, he didn’t want Sylvain to get married. After all, if he did, would they be able to still have those talks? “That’s...unfortunate,” Ashe offered.</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain brought his fingers to his temple again, but that time, it was not in a knowing gesture; instead, he massaged them, shutting his eyes. “Is it, though?”</p><p> </p><p>“It is? Right? Jeez, Sylvain, don’t mess around with me.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I’m not trying to. I’m genuinely asking you what you think,” Sylvain said, opening his eyes and lifting his brows. “Is it a bad thing that I’m not getting married right now?”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe normally found it rather easy to relax around Sylvain, but at that question, he felt restless. There was a right or wrong answer, he felt it. But he didn’t know which was which, so he had no choice but to go with his heart. “I don’t think so, personally,” Ashe said, finally. “I’m not really thinking about it, either.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m thinking about it,” Sylvain corrected, “but...I’m <em> really </em> thinking about it. To the point where outsiders might think I’m not thinking at all. You know how it is with the Faerghan houses, Ashe. Lots of interest in marrying for Crests, in marrying for status, and House Gautier has both of those things. So, what I do here is probably going to piss a lot of people off or make a lot of people happy. Believe it or not, I wanna be in the ‘happy’ category by the end of this.”</p><p> </p><p>It was strange how quickly Sylvain could switch from being a clown worthy of the royal court and being as serious as serious can get. “Why shouldn’t you be?”</p><p> </p><p>“Right. I should be. But at the same time, I don’t...I don’t really know what’s gonna make me happy,” Sylvain said, then sighed with finality. “There. I said it. Ashe, I have no idea what I’m doing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, it’s easy, isn’t it? We’ve talked about this before, right? You don’t want to marry for Crests or money. You want to marry for love.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Yeah. So, where do I find love?”</p><p> </p><p><em> Oh, Sylvain, please don’t ask </em> me <em> that. </em> They’d had that discussion before, about love, and Sylvain had asserted time and time again that it was “bullshit”. But that was before, when Sylvain wasn’t <em> really </em> thinking about it. Over time, Ashe wondered, had he come to realize that he wanted real love more than he thought he did? </p><p> </p><p>“Love finds <em> you </em>, maybe,” Ashe said. A perfectly vague answer, but not necessarily untrue.</p><p> </p><p>“Really? I think it got lost on its way here.” Ashe snorted, but Sylvain was smiling just enough to pass it off as a joke. “Has love found you, yet, Ashe?”</p><p> </p><p>“If it did, I missed it on its way in the door,” Ashe joked back. “I mean...I’m also not looking. You know how I am, Sylvain. With all that happened. I think I understand you, a little bit. I don’t really know what I’m looking for. After so much time doing what—what other people want you to do, you—”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t even know what’s your idea and what’s not,” Sylvain finished.</p><p> </p><p>Ashe nodded, sinking back into his chair. He hadn’t even realized it until then, but he had relaxed, just like Sylvain asked him to. “Yeah. That’s right.”</p><p> </p><p>“In that case...I wonder. I wonder if someone that I could have really been good with came along, and if I let them go because I wasn’t sure about myself, or because I wanted so badly to not do whatever everyone was telling me to do,” Sylvain wondered aloud. “Do you ever think about that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not really. Dwelling on the past is something I’ve wasted enough time doing.” Ashe paused, then added, “Not to say that you thinking about it is a waste of time! I-I just—”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, you’re right, it is. I’ve wasted enough time doing that, too.” Sylvain still had his arms folded, and Ashe could see him gently squeezing his arm. He had told Ashe to relax, and yet he looked so tense, himself. “But even going forward, I still don’t really know what I want. When I think of someone I can spend the rest of my life with...sometimes it just feels like my mind goes completely blank.”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably because there’s a lot of different people in the world, Sylvain. Trying to think up one would just be self-sabotage, anyway. I guess you really do just have to wait until you run into someone, and...I guess, a spark happens?”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve read one too many stories, Ashe...”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe huffed. “That is <em> not </em> coming from a story. It’s coming from my heart!”</p><p> </p><p>“That sounds like a line straight out of a story, right there, Ashe. ‘It’s coming from my heart’? Really? If I’m being honest, that sounds like something I’d say to a pretty girl,” Sylvain said, finishing off with another wink.</p><p> </p><p>Ashe begged himself not to stutter or panic, but his heart was pounding far too loudly in his ears for him to remain completely calm. Sylvain started to laugh a bit, so Ashe tried to play along with the joke. “Well, I think you’d make a <em> very </em> pretty girl, Sylvain.”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe had expected Sylvain to laugh even louder, come back with a joke that was somehow even <em> more </em> cringeworthy, but Sylvain stopped in his tracks. He seemed a bit shocked that Ashe had ventured to say something so bold, and Ashe didn’t blame him; it was distinctly out of character, after all the scolding Ashe had done to him. But, well, he understood Sylvain’s perspective a bit more, and...even knights could jest around with their friends, right?</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain leaned over his desk, coming just an inch closer, and tented his fingers atop it. “Am I not pretty enough already?”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain batted his eyelashes for effect, but his voice sounded rather serious. Ashe wasn’t shy about complimenting his friends, though. Not usually. “You are! Well, handsome more than pretty, probably,” Ashe said, rambling a bit. “But your eyes, they’ve got this sparkle in them sometimes, and I guess that’s pretty pretty. Ah, darn, I-I said pretty twice—”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a pretty good flatterer, Ashe,” Sylvain said, stretching. Ashe was glad he’d backed up a bit; him leaning forward only closed the distance between them a little bit, but it was enough to make Ashe nervous. “If I end up retiring as the biggest flirt in all of Faerghus, you might be slated to take my place.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not trying to flatter you, though. You’re...not bad looking, Sylvain.”</p><p> </p><p>“Woah, woah! I went from ‘handsome’ and ‘pretty pretty’ to ‘not bad looking’?! Did my face change, or what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Heh, maybe a little. Let’s see how I feel when we move to another room and get some different lighting,” Ashe said. He felt this fluttering feeling in his stomach, which hinted at nervousness but wasn’t quite that. He just felt...nice. Floaty. Sylvain tended to make him feel a lot of different things, but that feeling was the most comfortable. </p><p> </p><p>“In that case, let’s head to dinner. Might be ready by now,” Sylvain said, standing. Again, Ashe had to notice the slight height difference between them as he stood next to the margrave. “Leave your jacket, someone will fetch it later. Let’s just go fill our stomachs.”</p><p> </p><p>As if it sensed a meal coming its way, Ashe’s stomach growled. If Sylvain heard it, he didn’t react, much to Ashe’s delight. Sylvain opened the door and held it for Ashe, and Ashe got a better whiff of his cologne as he walked out. Ashe hated comparing Sylvain to other men, especially the men that Ashe didn’t remember fondly, but Sylvain always smelled so nice. Ashe couldn’t stop thinking about the hug they’d shared earlier, and how nice it would have been if it were a bit longer—</p><p> </p><p>But he also couldn’t stop thinking about how, in the end, he was the kind of person that Sylvain hated.</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain was always nice to him, because Sylvain was a nice person, but the truth was, listening to Sylvain talk, Ashe knew that he had no chance. Sylvain spoke with malice about people who used their bodies to get ahead, people who wanted nothing more than to take advantage of him. Ashe knew he would never steal from Sylvain, would never lie, would never be with him for any reason but to love him, but how many times had Sylvain heard that before? </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And it wouldn’t mean anything, coming from a thief. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Just like that, Ashe had managed to diminish the warm feeling in his stomach, and it was replaced by dread, hopelessness. Talking with Sylvain about love, joking back and forth—it felt so good, but sometimes, it felt like it was just reminding Ashe of something he couldn’t have.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey. Ashe?”</p><p> </p><p>They had been walking together, with Sylvain leading the way to the dining room, before Sylvain stopped in his tracks. He turned to Ashe, his eyebrows pointed inward in a curious expression. Had he read Ashe’s thoughts...? It sure felt like it. “Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Y’know, you were pretty set on calling me handsome and whatnot...it’s only fair if I give you a little payback, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Of course, Sylvain had to be like <em> that, </em> right after Ashe had convinced himself that Sylvain would never, ever love him. Still, Ashe couldn’t resist. “I won’t turn down a compliment, I guess...”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, if I’m handsome, you’re definitely on the prettier end of things,” Sylvain said, and—Goddess, how could he say things like that so openly? Ashe was still burning up just from daring to say that Sylvain had nice eyes. “But, hm...you might be handsome. I think it might be a matter of lighting.”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help smiling. “Is that so?”</p><p> </p><p>“...Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe turned to Sylvain, and saw that Sylvain had his eyes narrowed, with that curious look still on his face, alongside a sneaky little smile. Sylvain looked so imposing, standing over Ashe like that—even more when he began to move closer, and closer, until Ashe had no choice but to back up until his heels hit the wall.</p><p>
  
</p><p>Had anyone else cornered him like that, he might have cried, or ran, or drew a weapon. But with Sylvain, he...he didn’t know how he felt. Everything in his body was lighting up at once, trying in vain to register what was going on around him. Sylvain lifted an arm, placing it on the wall above Ashe’s head and effectively trapping him there. On one side, there was Sylvain’s arm; on the other, a mounted candle heated up Ashe’s cheek, if it was capable of getting any hotter. Sylvain put a hand to Ashe’s chin, moving him this way and that; Ashe let him, looking up with wide eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“...No, still not handsome,” Sylvain sighed, shaking his head. “Well, you’re a pretty boy, Ashe. I guess you can’t help it.”</p><p> </p><p>“G-guess I can’t...”</p><p> </p><p><em> Too close, too close, but don’t leave, please, don’t leave. </em> Ashe could see Sylvain’s face in startling detail. Those gorgeous eyes, that snarky (and probably talented, Ashe mused) tongue darting out to swipe over his lips. The flames may not have made Ashe look handsome, but they worked wonders for Sylvain, making the fiery orange of his hair look even more beautiful falling over his face.</p><p> </p><p>“You said you wanted to see me in some different lighting, too, right? How about it, huh? I’m a little better than...what was it? ‘Not bad looking’?”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe laughed, as much as his tightened up throat would let him. “Yeah. Just a bit better,” Ashe said, his voice low. He hated that he was whispering. If he was talking so quietly, then that meant things were getting serious, right? But Sylvain couldn’t have been serious. </p><p> </p><p>Still watching Sylvain’s face, which was getting less smug and more focused by the second, Ashe let his hand wander upwards, cradling Sylvain’s face just as Sylvain did to him. However, unlike Sylvain, Ashe wasn’t doing it for the sake of playing with the light across Sylvain’s skin. No, he was doing it because if he was having that moment, up against the wall with Sylvain nearly pressing him, he would take what he could get, and he...he just wanted to feel Sylvain’s skin on his.</p><p> </p><p>“M-Margrave Gautier?”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe jumped, nearly knocking over the candle near him, but Sylvain didn’t seem startled at all by the intruder. It was the same servant that had led Ashe to Sylvain’s office. Chances are, she didn’t have a very good impression of Ashe by that point... “Good evening! What can I do you for?”</p><p> </p><p>“Dinner is ready, Margrave,” the woman said, her eyes darting back and forth between Ashe and Sylvain. “Th-that is all.”</p><p> </p><p>“What good timing! Ashe and I were just on our way to the dining room. Weren’t we, Ashe?” Ashe didn’t respond, but smiled sheepishly and nodded at the servant. “We’ll be there in just a minute. Thanks, doll. Take a load off your feet and have some food, too, okay? Have the rest of the evening to yourself, I can take it from here. It just won’t do for a lovely lady like you to be working herself silly.”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe seemed to be forgotten. The servant was tugging at her apron to make it look neat, blushing at Sylvain. “Why, th-thank you, Margrave. Have a wonderful evening.”</p><p> </p><p>The servant girl scuttled past them, beside herself at Sylvain’s recognition. As Sylvain and Ashe began to walk towards the dining room, Sylvain sucked his teeth, then turned to Ashe. “Sorry about that. Habit.”</p><p> </p><p>How peculiar, Ashe thought. He never thought he’d live to see the day where Sylvain apologized for being a shameless flirt.</p>
<hr/><p>Ashe chalked it up to coincidence that dinner was one of his favorite dishes, a pheasant roast with Albinean berry sauce. He and Sylvain might have shared a meal or two with the professor back at the academy, but the idea that Sylvain had put some thought into remembering what Ashe liked was too overwhelming to even consider, especially after the encounter in the hallway.</p><p> </p><p>It was hard to focus on the dish in front of him, no matter how appetizing it was. Ashe often cursed himself for making subpar jokes in his head, but he couldn’t help thinking that Sylvain was more appetizing than whatever his servants could <em> dream </em> of cooking up.</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain, on the other hand, was acting as if that moment in the hall had never even happened. “You’re a really good cook, right, Ashe? I hope this meets your standards,” Sylvain said.</p><p> </p><p>“I like cooking, but I’m not really picky about what others make,” Ashe said, a mindless response. He couldn’t think, not when that sliver of skin exposed by Sylvain’s shirt was right in front of him, not when his heart <em> still </em> hadn’t slowed from the feeling of Sylvain’s hand on his face. Eating was nothing more than the motion of spearing food with his fork and bringing it to his mouth, again and again until the plate was cleared.</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain carried the conversation on his own, and Ashe loved hearing him speak. Even if he was just gossiping idly about Kingdom nobles, and even when Ashe’s mind was somewhat elsewhere, he had Ashe’s attention. </p><p> </p><p>Ashe wanted to maybe say something, ask Sylvain if what happened in the hallway meant anything—but he couldn’t. It couldn’t have been anything more than a joke. Not to mention, there were servants idling nearby, and Ashe wouldn’t want to embarrass Sylvain in front of them by mentioning...whatever it was that had just happened in the hallway. </p><p> </p><p>With those excuses in mind, Ashe laughed and smiled and chatted his way through dinner. They stayed at the table long after their plates were cleared, reminiscing and only occasionally dipping into the present tense. <em> Forget about it, </em> Ashe kept telling himself, despite it being increasingly difficult to forget about it.</p><p> </p><p>They talked for an hour after finishing dinner, until Ashe let out an inadvertent yawn. He wasn’t quite tired, yet, but Sylvain raised an eyebrow at him anyway. “Am I keeping you up? If the baby needs to be put to bed, just let me know...”</p><p> </p><p>“Heh, I’m not tired! Well, I’m not <em> sleepy. </em> Anybody’d be tired after travelling through the cold like that,” Ashe said. What he <em> didn’t </em> say was that it was impossible to feel tired when his heart was beating that fast, and that he was afraid of falling asleep because he might just start dreaming of Sylvain. </p><p> </p><p>“At the very least, you probably wanna get out of those clothes; it was snowing earlier, wasn’t it? Although you’ve probably dried off by now.” Sylvain stood up from the table, stretching this way and that. Is that what wielding a lance did to one’s body? Broad shoulders, forearms that were to die for, with the back of his arms covered in a light layer of ginger hair that wasn’t there last time Ashe looked—and he looked often. “It’s sorta warm in here at night, so keep that in mind when you change.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, yeah, it wasn’t all too cold in the office, either. How do you do it, though...? It’s pretty frigid up here.”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain winked. “Good old magic, baby.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Oh, come on. </em> The pet name was surely in jest, but Ashe’s heart fluttered all the same, unaware of the overwhelming disappointment and hopelessness lingering in Ashe’s mind. “Whatever you say,” Ashe dismissed.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you get shown to your room earlier, or did you just have your bags taken?”</p><p> </p><p>“I haven’t seen it yet. Someone took my bags, and another person led me to your office.” It made him feel like he was at a fancy inn. </p><p> </p><p>“I think I know where they put you,” Sylvain mumbled to himself, walking out of the dining room and scratching his head. Ashe was in awe. Did he really have so many rooms in his house that he didn’t know which his guest had been <em> assigned </em> to? Ashe would have been happy with a nice, quaint cottage with three bedrooms, one for him and his husband, one for their kids, and another for their guests. <em> Sylvain probably wouldn’t want something like that, </em> Ashe thought, salting his own wounds.</p><p> </p><p>Absentmindedly, he said, “I think she said something about ‘the lavender room’?”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain stopped in his tracks as they walked down the hall, then snapped his fingers, making a sharp turn in the other direction. “Right! I remember that! See, I knew it was a good idea to color code these rooms.”</p><p> </p><p>Alright, his curiosity was unbearable. “Sylvain, how many bedrooms are in this place?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, there’s mine, then the lavender room...there’s a red one, a blue one—I’ve got an orangish-yellowish number, too...the white room, can’t forget about that. So, uh, however many that is. I think there’s an unfurnished room around here, somewhere. I’m never going to have enough people here to fill them all up anyway, so it doesn’t matter. Oh—do you have a color preference? Blue for the lions, maybe?”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe chuckled. “No, lavender is fine. It’d be a hassle to move my things, now, anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain seemed to be a bit hesitant or confused every now and again as they walked, but he successfully led Ashe to the lavender room. When he opened the door, he realized that it was very befitting of its name. Tended-to lavender flowers in chic vases were strategically placed throughout the room, popping brightly against a deep violet bedding set. It was a stark contrast, with the dark, almost seductive purple of the bed. It looked very comfortable, though, and if Sylvain hadn’t been standing at a short, heart-pounding distance, Ashe might have flopped over and fallen asleep.</p><p> </p><p>When Sylvain backed away, Ashe nearly felt withdrawals, wondering why Sylvain would leave him. Then he remembered what he was supposed to do. “Once you get changed, you can come over to my room—I keep my good chessboard there.”</p><p> </p><p>“W-wait, we’re actually...playing?”</p><p> </p><p>“We sure are! Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.” As if that were possible. Sylvain liked to play dumb, but Ashe knew better. He was <em> too </em> smart, so smart that Ashe sometimes wondered if Sylvain saw right through him and knew how much Ashe wanted him. Things would be so much easier that way, if Ashe didn’t have to worry about Sylvain finding him out and hating him forever. </p><p> </p><p>But Sylvain wasn’t smart enough to be psychic, so Ashe had no choice but to suffer in silence. “If you say so...I’ll see you in a bit.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright. Take the staircase near the dining room and go straight back to get to my room, alright?”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain stepped out, closing the door behind him, and Ashe was left alone with his thoughts again. He wasn’t thinking about his growling stomach or stealing or anything but Sylvain. Really, it was easier to deal with the fact that he was a no-good thief than to deal with the awkward see-saw of emotions Sylvain had put him on. It was already hard enough for Ashe to cope with his feelings without Sylvain being...himself.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Of all the people I had to fall for, it was the flirt. This isn’t fair. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>And the conversation earlier hadn’t made things any fairer. Sylvain had been talking about settling down, finding <em> the one, </em> and Ashe couldn’t fit into that equation. Sylvain thought fondly of Ashe, pitied him maybe, but Ashe would never be what Sylvain was looking for. All that talk about finding that special person, and Ashe had already found his, only for him to be unattainable.</p><p> </p><p>There was a large mirror in the room, perfect for Ashe to stare into and see his own somber reflection. He hated seeing his own face like that. He was used to his own smile, and he knew that everyone around him was, too. He slapped his cheeks, rubbed his face as if to mold it back together.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Better,” Ashe said, flashing himself a brief smile. He was tired of playing tug-of-war with himself, but it was somewhat easier to be rational without Sylvain around. Once he’d gotten himself together, he walked over to his luggage, pulling out a cotton shirt and a pair of boxers. They were both a baby blue color—too childish, maybe, he thought idly—and fit him loosely. Perfect for lounging or sleeping, although he doubted he’d get much sleep. Sylvain tended to stay up late, from what Ashe remembered.</p><p> </p><p>Ashe pulled on some slippers and followed Sylvain’s directions, trying to make it back to the dining room. It was easy to get turned around in the long halls, criss-crossing like a never-ending tic-tac-toe board, but Ashe found his way to the large staircase. He tripped a few times on his way up, trying to keep his feet in his slippers—or maybe it was his nerves. Once he reached the top, he wondered how he’d make it back down to his room. Goddess forbid the candles went out. He would be too shy to ask Sylvain to walk him back...</p><p> </p><p>Ashe went straight down the hallway, finding that there were less candles lit on the way there. His heart began to race every time he went through a dim patch, a fear that he never got over coming back to haunt him. The darkness made him feel like he was suffocating, like he was closed in. Even those small gaps between the light started his heart to racing. It made him embarrassed, almost, to know that thinking of getting to Sylvain’s room calmed him down so much.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It’s alright, Ashe. I’ve got you. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, Ashe,” he murmured to himself, shaking his head. But he’d fully relaxed by the time he made it to the door at the end of the hall, cracked open with the sound of a fireplace seeping out.</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain didn’t jump that time when Ashe entered, looking up from the chessboard that he was meticulously setting up. He’d changed into a pair of loose pants, and a shirt that <em> must </em> have been too tight to comfortably sleep in. Was he really fine with wearing something that hugged his muscles like that...?</p><p> </p><p>“Ready to play?”</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t believe you’re going through with this,” Ashe groaned. “Sylvain, I’ll lose. And you said earlier that I didn’t have to play...”</p><p> </p><p>“I did, but I lied. I don’t <em> just </em> lie to pretty girls, y’know.”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe sighed through his nose, sitting down at the little table that the chessboard rested on. “That’s not funny.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wasn’t a joke,” Sylvain shot back. “Now, tell me what you know about chess. Just so I know what I’m up against.”</p><p> </p><p>Lonato had taught Ashe how to play, and he’d often played with Christophe after dinner. However, neither of them had taught him more than how to play, and he’d never learned how to play well. Ashe went around the board, explaining the movement of the pieces as best as he could. It felt like no matter what he said, he was wrong, but he might’ve just been self-conscious. Sylvain nodded along until Ashe was finished; it was a pretty brief explanation, considering how little he knew.</p><p> </p><p>He finished with, “I haven’t played this in years, by the way.”</p><p> </p><p>“At least it’ll be quick. I won’t make you suffer, alright? Just one quick game. You’re white, so you go first,” Sylvain said.</p><p> </p><p>“A-am I at a disadvantage if I go first?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ashe, we already agreed that you’re going to lose. Does it <em> really </em> matter who goes first?”</p><p> </p><p>“...Fair point.”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe moved a pawn forward one space.</p>
<hr/><p>As expected, Sylvain swept Ashe with cunning accuracy. Ashe had expected such strategy from Hubert, or Claude, or maybe Yuri, but not Sylvain. Then again, Sylvain was the kind of person that liked being underestimated, and Ashe had fallen right into his hands.</p><p> </p><p>Despite his continuing endeavor to get Sylvain out of his mind, Ashe was incredibly susceptible to Sylvain’s charms, and when Sylvain asked for another round, he gave it to him. And another. And even more, with Ashe losing every time. To his credit, the matches started to get a little longer; Sylvain was giving him pointers here and there, not quite helping him set up a strategy, but giving him tips—know the value of your pieces, move your knights to the center of the board, don’t move your first pawn more than once. It was a lot for Ashe to learn, but Sylvain was a good teacher.</p><p> </p><p>Or maybe Ashe just paid attention to him because he liked the way Sylvain looked.</p><p> </p><p>Ashe never got close to winning, with his pieces stacking up on Sylvain’s side of the board every time they played. It was after their seventh game that Ashe threw in the towel, cradling his head. “Any more and I’ll get a headache, Sylvain...you’re a horrible host, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>“What? You want me to let you into <em> my </em> home and let you win? You better head to Galatea territory for coddling.”</p><p> </p><p>“As if Ingrid would let me win...”</p><p> </p><p>“She wouldn’t have to <em> let </em> you. You’re already ahead of her. She doesn’t have the mind for this kind of thing. Felix, either. You’ve got it, though. You’re good,” Sylvain said.</p><p> </p><p>Ashe felt his cheeks heat. Sylvain hadn’t even meant for that to sound flirty; Ashe could tell when he did, and that wasn’t it. He brought his hands up to his face, subtly trying to soothe his blush away. “Don’t flatter me.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, really. You’re a quick learner. Hm...I wonder what else I could show you?” </p><p> </p><p>Okay. Now, <em> that </em> was flirty. Sylvain had his eyebrow cocked, his lips curled into an almost predatory grin...and Ashe was dumbstruck. What was Sylvain even trying to say? Logically, it didn’t make sense—as far as Ashe knew, Sylvain hadn’t even been with another man, and Ashe had probably learned anything Sylvain could have taught him a long time ago. Too early, maybe, but he wasn’t thinking about that. Instead, he was thinking of some fantasy he’d made up on the spot, of Sylvain taking his hand, guiding him through it. Maybe he liked it a certain way, not every man was the same. Yes, he’d bring Ashe’s hand between his legs, guide his fingers, <em> right here, baby</em>—</p><p> </p><p>“Uh...” Ashe choked out, stopping himself before he got too far. </p><p> </p><p>Sylvain’s expression fell at an almost startling speed, his eyes going wide. “Oh. Ashe, that was—”</p><p> </p><p>Had Sylvain mistaken his surprise for something else? He looked apologetic, almost. “No, no, you’re fine, I—”</p><p> </p><p>“That was out of line—”</p><p> </p><p><em> I’m the one who’s out of line. </em> “I’m serious, it was cool, Sylvain. It was—”</p><p> </p><p>“I shouldn’t have. Knowing what you’ve told me. I-I wasn’t thinking.”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe opened his lips to respond, then closed them. He never...regretted opening up to Sylvain, telling him about what he’d had to do to get by, but sometimes he wished there were details, small things, that he’d left out. Details about men, men who were far too old to look Ashe’s way, showing Ashe how to be <em> perfect </em> for them just so him and his siblings could eat that night...</p><p> </p><p>That made him think of doors shutting behind him, rooms going dark, claws grazing across his neck as that darkness seeped into him—but Sylvain’s words hadn’t done that to him. They made him feel warm, safe, wanted, feelings that didn’t easily come to him anymore.</p><p> </p><p>“It...it really wouldn’t be like that,” Ashe responded. </p><p> </p><p>“What? What wouldn’t?”</p><p> </p><p>“If—” Ashe stopped. He picked up a rook, fidgeting with it and staring down at the board. Sylvain hadn’t rearranged it, so there were black pieces all over it, symbols of Sylvain’s easy takeover. “If me, and you...even if you were to show me stuff, or, like, teach me, I guess, I wouldn’t mind? It’s not like that, is what I’m trying to say. What you said didn’t bother me. That’s all I wanted to say. Not sure why I said all that other stuff.”</p><p> </p><p>Goddess, what an unsuccessful backtrack. He’d really done it. There was a window in Sylvain’s room, and, okay, the snow had stopped. Ashe could definitely make a mad dash to the stables and get his horse and go home and never face Sylvain again, right?</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain sat back, hands clasped over his stomach. He seemed to be perusing Ashe, appraising the situation. How did he manage to look so...enthused, but detached from the situation? “You wouldn’t mind? Me and you?”</p><p> </p><p>Again, there was a distinct lack of flirtatiousness in Sylvain’s voice. He sounded a bit quiet, like a child who’d been scolded and was asking for a piece of candy right afterwards. Ashe wasn’t sure how to proceed. What did Sylvain want him to say? Whatever Sylvain wanted him to say, he’d say it, but he didn’t know...</p><p> </p><p>“I mean...y-you’re not a stranger. And you’d never mistreat me, so...”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain chuckled. “You should want a little more than that, shouldn’t you?”</p><p> </p><p><em> It </em> is <em> more than that. It already is. It’s too much. </em> “More than that? Like what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Like someone you love, Ashe. You say you wouldn’t mind it if I...if we...” Sylvain sniffed a bit, sat up straighter. So, he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Was that a good sign, or a bad sign? “But we were just talking earlier, weren’t we, about being careful, about finding someone who we love...”</p><p> </p><p>“I know we were,” Ashe said, and he wondered if that would be enough to key Sylvain in. There was no going back by then, anyway, it seemed. No matter what he said, things were going to be awkward, and probably ruined, so why not be straightforward? What made that meeting any different from the ones in the academy where Ashe was pouring his heart out? He tried to think of it like that—just had to get it off his chest, and deal with whatever came next.</p><p> </p><p>What came next was a sigh, long and morose, from Sylvain’s lips. He was looking at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact. Ashe studied the rook in his hands, trying to blink away the tears that welled up in preparation for a rejection. A flawless paint job. </p><p> </p><p>“I shouldn’t have done that to you in the hallway.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not mad about that, either.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know you’re not. And I know that you like me.” Ashe’s heart jumped into his throat, beat hard in his neck and stopped him from breathing right. So, he did know. Of course he knew. How did Ashe fool himself into thinking he was subtle? “And I did it anyway, even though I know I’m no good for you. And I said that thing just now, about <em> showing </em> you, because I...can’t help myself, Ashe.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not no good for me,” Ashe said, squeezing the rook in his palm. He squeezed, released, feeling his skin mold to the ridges of it. It was a good distraction from his light-headedness, the twist in his stomach. “I’m no good for <em> you, </em> Sylvain.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Ashe,” Sylvain said, part sympathetic and part annoyed. “Don’t you dare.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I mean it. Just think about it, you...you hate people like me.” Sylvain sat up straight, staring at Ashe with incredulous eyes. “People who use their bodies, use anything to get ahead. Manipulative people, who do things even if they’re wrong, j-just because—”</p><p> </p><p>“What?! Ashe, are you talking about you being a thief? That’s nowhere near the same thing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not just that, Sylvain. Everything else, too,” Ashe argued, his voice wavering. “The people I-I did things for, so that I could—”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not the same. You had to survive. I know this because you told me so,” Sylvain said. His voice was raised, but there wasn’t any anger. “I never had to fight like that until the war, and even then, that’s not the same. I know I couldn’t have done what you did to get by and made it out. I know it hurt, Ashe, but I don’t think any less of you for what you had to do to get by or get ahead. I think you’re amazing for sitting in front of me like this, still being so...so sweet, so happy. Nothing about that would make me hate you. You understand me?”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain reached across the table for Ashe’s hand, the one that held the rook. Ashe let it clatter onto the table, covered in a light sheen of sweat from his palms. When he took Sylvain’s, he felt like he did when he was back in school, always worried about how sweaty his hands were and how Sylvain would notice if they ever held hands—but he’d also convinced himself that they never would. </p><p> </p><p>Sylvain squeezed a bit, and Ashe wondered if he could feel his pulse quickening. Then, he continued to speak. “Honestly, I thought <em>you</em> would have hated <em>me,</em>” Sylvain admitted. “I didn’t want you to think I was just some playboy, or...like anyone who’s taken advantage of you. I don’t really care if others think I’m like that. In the beginning, I really didn’t care what <em> you </em> thought, either. But then we started talking, and I-I realized how stupid I’d be to let you get away. I was trying so hard to let you know that all the flirting, and the messing around, and the girls, it—it never felt like me. I mean, it <em> is, </em> but it’s...”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Ashe said. He considered holding Sylvain’s hand a little tighter. Then he changed his mind, instead opting for a more intimate gesture by rubbing his thumb over the back of Sylvain’s hand.</p><p> </p><p>“I really shouldn’t have done that to you in the hallway,” Sylvain repeated, that time more to himself. “Ashe, you have no reason to believe me when I tell you that you’re all that I want. But it’s true. I know I said that it’s so hard to know, but when I see you, it’s really damn easy.” Sylvain had a way with words, Ashe noticed, even when he wasn’t trying so hard to flirt. He seemed to be speaking from the heart, saying whatever came to his mind, but it still sounded like something out of a storybook. “So, uh...since I’ve poured my heart out, you should go ahead and tell me how much you love me, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain and Ashe shared a little laugh, but Ashe had gotten used to seeing through Sylvain’s comedy acts—he was nervous. Nervous that Ashe might really say no. Ashe found that funny, in a way: he could never bring himself to reject Sylvain, despite all of his flaws, and let Sylvain tell it, he was set on Ashe in the same way. Ashe had been on edge since the moment he’d set foot on Sylvain’s lands, and his body seemed unsure of what to do with itself once the source of its anxiety sorted itself out.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess I should,” Ashe said, and Sylvain seemed to go slack with relief, a little smile coming across his face. “I really do love you, Sylvain. And don’t worry. I hear you. I know who you really are, and I love it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Goddess, Ashe, I’ve dreamed of you saying that a million different ways,” Sylvain gushed. “And you still managed to—”</p><p> </p><p>“That doesn’t mean I’m going to tolerate you flirting with everyone you see, by the way.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, hey! I never said it did! Don’t worry. Every heart-pounding pickup line I think up from now until the end of time will be for your ears only,” Sylvain said. At that, he clasped his hand with Ashe’s, twining their fingers together. “After all, I can’t let my insanely perfect flirting talent go to waste.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that’s fine, I guess...even if I tell you to stop, it’d be difficult, wouldn’t it? I can let a line or two slide.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, would you? Wouldn’t it be better to...slide into my arms, then?”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe groaned. “Sylvain, that’s just awful.” Well...it was a bad line, but being in Sylvain’s arms sounded really nice. “If you want a cuddle, just ask for it like a normal person, please?”</p><p> </p><p>“What happened to you letting me unleash all my pickup lines on you? Man, you’re so picky. Alright, Ashe. Do you wanna hop into my bed for a cuddle? How’s that?”</p><p> </p><p>That...actually got more of a reaction from Ashe than the pickup line. Especially given how forward Sylvain had been acting earlier. There was a good chance that, if Ashe got into Sylvain’s bed, he wouldn’t be fully clothed by the time he got out. He often associated that anticipation with a sense of dread, those claws at his neck, but he was pleasantly surprised to find that he felt nothing of the sort; no urge to run, to fight. Instead, he wanted nothing more than to follow every order that came from Sylvain’s gorgeous lips.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s better,” Ashe mumbled. </p><p> </p><p>“Come on, then. The pillows are extra fluffy—Linhardt’d be jealous.”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain quickly arranged the pieces on the board, and Ashe watched his muscles move beneath his shirt for a bit before walking over to the bed. Sylvain came over just in time to pull back the tucked in blankets. They seemed heavy when he moved them, and Ashe was glad; although the fireplace was running (and his body was heating up every time Sylvain looked at him), there was still a slight chill in the room.</p><p> </p><p>He felt much warmer once he got in the bed and Sylvain pulled the covers over them. They were laying next to each other, but not quite touching. Ashe mumbled, “I haven’t cuddled with anyone other than my little siblings in forever...”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not something you can forget how to do, if that’s what you’re wondering. C’mere,” Sylvain said, beckoning with his fingers. </p><p> </p><p>Ashe fretted for a bit, unsure how to proceed, before shuffling closer into Sylvain’s chest. Sylvain made it easy, lifting his arm to create an easy spot for Ashe to slot himself into. Ashe did it like he was born to fit into Sylvain’s grasp, resting his forehead beneath Sylvain’s chin and throwing an arm over his side. Sylvain did the same, a hand coming to rest on Ashe’s lower back. His pinky finger was settled on the sliver of skin that Ashe had left exposed when his shirt rode up on his waist. </p><p> </p><p>It was unfair how Sylvain was touching him so intimately, wasn’t it? Ashe decided to strike back, bringing a hand to rest on the back of Sylvain’s neck. Sylvain tilted his head a bit towards Ashe’s hand, then straightened up again. “You’ve got pretty soft hands, for an archer.”</p><p> </p><p>“Soft?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mm-hm. You’re pretty soft all over,” Sylvain remarked. Ashe’s boxers left most of his legs exposed, and he wiggled around at the feeling of Sylvain’s fingers running across his lower thigh. Sylvain’s fingers paused on Ashe’s leg. “Sorry. Is that okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s fine, you just—you caught me off-guard...it’s nice, though.”</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t mean to scare you. I’ll ask you before I touch you, then. Is that alright?” Ashe nodded, his head brushing up against Sylvain’s chest as he did. “Well, then, may I kiss you, Sir Ashe?”</p><p> </p><p>The question would have been too embarrassing to answer, if not for the ridiculous address. “You may, Margrave. Please, be gentle with this fair maiden?” Ashe wasn’t even worried about how the joke would go over. He was laser-focused on the little laugh at Sylvain’s lips, the lips that would be kissing him in mere <em> seconds, </em> they were so close. </p><p> </p><p>Sylvain must have taken Ashe’s request to heart. When Ashe closed his eyes, waiting for Sylvain to approach, he almost missed the first touch of Sylvain’s lips to his. It was brief, so brief that Ashe nearly opened his eyes and asked Sylvain what the hold-up was, until Sylvain returned for another, the hand at Ashe’s hip curling into a firm hold. Ashe was the one who parted his lips, his tongue sneakily teasing at Sylvain’s lips.</p><p> </p><p>“Goddess, Ashe,” Sylvain mumbled, before pulling Ashe closer and kissing him deeper. Ashe had been kissed before, it was nothing new to him, but it felt much nicer when he was being held against Sylvain’s body, large and comforting. Ashe gasped a bit when he heard Sylvain moan. He’d heard a similar sound, perhaps, during the war when Sylvain was injured, but it was different when he knew what had caused it.</p><p> </p><p>Ashe felt a bit out of breath, so he pulled away, but he didn’t want Sylvain to think he was anything other than enthusiastic. He began to plant kisses along Sylvain’s jawline, his neck, even his shoulder over the fabric of his shirt.</p><p> </p><p>“Ashe, Ashe,” Sylvain said. There was a bit of warning in his voice, so Ashe stopped, looking up and trying not to look annoyed at the interruption. “What are you trying to do to me, huh...?”</p><p> </p><p>“I really don’t know,” Ashe admitted. “I’m just...I’m only...I’ve been thinking about you. A <em> lot. </em> So...”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll do whatever you want me to, Ashe. But I need to know what you want. If you don’t want to go all the way tonight, we don’t have to. I know you’re tired, and...and we’re just figuring things out—”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, I know all of that.” Ashe didn’t mean to sound impatient, but he might’ve been. He was no stranger to the feeling of arousal, especially when it came to Sylvain, and he was well-aware of what he wanted to do next. “I still want it, Sylvain. Besides, y-you were the one teasing me so much, earlier.”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain pouted. “Hey, I thought you said you weren’t mad.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not mad, I’m riled up. Like—” Ashe huffed, frustrated in more ways than one.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, alright. I’m sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to work you up like that,” Sylvain said. “I’ll take care of it. Take care of you. Tell me what you want.”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe’s fire died down at that, doused with a bit of shame. He’d said quite a few things to Sylvain over the course of their conversations, but he never thought he’d have to express how badly he wanted to be fucked. Instead, he turned the topic to Sylvain. “You’ve never been with another man, right? You said you had a lot to show me, but...”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, no, but...can’t be that hard, right?” Ashe nearly rolled his eyes, before he remembered that Sylvain was the kind of person who excelled at things on the first try for no reason at all. “You might have to teach me a few things, though.”</p><p> </p><p>Really, Ashe wasn’t sure if he knew how to explain it. He’d had very few partners who cared about whether they were doing things right, so long as they got off. “I’ll do my best. You’re right, it’s not too difficult...”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not trying to be crude, but I just have to kinda...put it in there, right? Or the other way around? I’m adventurous, don’t worry.”</p><p> </p><p>Oh. Ashe hadn’t ever considered topping Sylvain. He was used to being on the bottom, preferred it, even, but there was something to be said about being inside of someone. Especially someone as handsome and charming as Sylvain...</p><p> </p><p>But Ashe still liked the idea of Sylvain fucking him, calling him sweet names as he did, finishing inside of him—that idea was unbeatable. “No, I’ll, um...I’ll be on the bottom. But Sylvain, you should know that it’s a little more than just ‘putting it in there’.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, what? What else is there to do? Should we jerk each other off, first, you mean? That’s fine.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Maybe he’s not as naturally talented as I thought. </em> “No, Sylvain, I mean...well, it’s not like when you put it in a...inside of a—” Ashe stopped, flustered, and Sylvain looked on in amusement. “What I’m trying to say is, it doesn’t get wet by itself.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your ass?”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe inhaled sharply. No amount of steamy romance novels could prepare him for Sylvain. “Yes. My—yes. And if we do it dry, it’s not going to be fun for either of us.” <em> I learned that the hard way... </em></p><p> </p><p>“Doesn’t sound too fun, no. That makes sense. Well, there’s some olive oil in one of my drawers. Can we use that?”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe’s eyebrows shot up. He had kept some of his own in his bag, on the off-chance that he managed to sleep with someone during his trip (not like he was hoping it would be Sylvain, or anything). He hadn’t expected Sylvain to be keeping some of his own. “Th-that works. Out of curiosity, um...why do you have that up here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Makes lonely nights go a little smoother.”</p><p> </p><p>What an answer. Ashe resisted the urge to bring his hand to his boxers and touch himself at those words. Even if Sylvain wasn’t thinking about him, the very thought of Sylvain slicking his hand up and stroking himself made Ashe giddy. So deep he was into his fantasy, he hadn’t even noticed Sylvain getting up to get the oil and returning to bed. “That makes sense. I usually just spit in my hand, but...that doesn’t really work for this.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s weird. I’ve done a lot of weird stuff in bed, but never anal. Looks like you’re my first.” Part of Ashe wanted to bristle at the mention of Sylvain’s past lovers, but the other part was overjoyed at being Sylvain’s first experience with anal. Normal people probably didn’t get excited over that, though... </p><p> </p><p>Sylvain handed Ashe the oil, and Ashe held it, suddenly feeling a bit awkward. “So, you can take some and, er, put it on yourself. I’ll prepare myself, too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait. You, uh...do it by putting your fingers inside, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain looked intrigued, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. “Really? Huh. It’s just that, logically speaking, I should be doing it, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe blinked. “Why’s that?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve got bigger fingers,” Sylvain said. To prove his point, he took Ashe’s hand in his. There was a rather noticeable difference, both in the length and thickness of their fingers. “That’ll prepare you better, right? I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pretty big, Ashe. I don’t wanna tear you open or anything.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Ashe breathed. Sure, he’d thought about Sylvain’s dick a fair amount, but hearing him confirm that it was big was an entirely different matter. Dumbstruck, he passed the bottle to Sylvain. “You can do it, then...”</p><p> </p><p>“Cool. Let me know if I’m doing it wrong, or anything. This is supposed to feel good, too, yeah?” Ashe nodded, a bit absently; he was preoccupied with stripping himself of his boxers. Since he was already undressing, he decided to pull his shirt over his head. He felt a tad exposed afterward, knowing he was so scrawny compared to Sylvain, but Sylvain looked enamored. “Hard already, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s no easy way to tell you this, but I’ve been sort of...pent-up. Since you did that to me in the hall,” Ashe said. </p><p> </p><p>“Want me to touch you here, too?” Sylvain’s fingers brushed up the length of Ashe’s cock, and Ashe gripped the sheets so he wouldn’t arch into Sylvain’s hand.</p><p> </p><p>“No, no, not yet. Just f-finger me, please. I want to get you inside.” One touch from Sylvain, and Ashe had become unravelled. He’d certainly be regretting a few things he said when he looked back the next day, but that was fine. He just needed Sylvain to <em> know. </em></p><p> </p><p>Sylvain uncapped the bottle, pouring olive oil into his palm. He re-capped it with one hand—how dexterous, Ashe thought—and then spread it over his hands, paying special attention to his fingers. “Is it fine if you sit like that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, I’ll lay back,” Ashe said, scooting up to the head of Sylvain’s bed and falling into the pillows. They were rather fluffy, but he was paying more attention to Sylvain, who was biting his lip ever-so slightly. Ashe got himself settled against the pillows, spreading his legs. “There. It should be easier like that. You can start with two, I’m—I’m kinda used to it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really? Okay, if you say so...” Ashe was charmed by the concern on Sylvain’s face. Ashe tried to relax as Sylvain spread him open with one hand, his pointer and middle finger coming towards Ashe’s hole. Ashe tightened up just off of reflex when he felt it, but soothed himself again, letting Sylvain’s fingers pass through his entrance. Sylvain wasted no time pulling them out and pushing them back in, working up to a slow pattern. “Woah. That’s...different.”</p><p> </p><p>“Haha, yeah,” Ashe said, trying to maintain his composure. “It’s a little weird to feel it squeezing around you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve got a weird question to ask. Do you ever do this just for fun? Y’know, while you’re masturbating? Or is it only before you’re about to...”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe twiddled his fingers a bit. At least Sylvain was talking, making a distraction; Ashe would have been a little too overheated if he didn’t have something to keep his mind off of how <em> good </em> Sylvain’s hand felt. “Sometimes. It feels pretty nice when you hit the right spots. If I’m rushing, I can get off in a few minutes like this.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve gotta show me some time,” Sylvain said, husky. Frantically fingering himself and jerking himself off for Sylvain’s pleasure sounded almost <em> too </em> fun to Ashe. “Man, I have no idea where to <em> begin </em> in giving a blowjob, but I really want you in my mouth right now.”</p><p> </p><p>“G-Goddess, Sylvain,” Ashe exclaimed. So much for keeping himself calm. “That’s...um, n-not right now. I don’t want to wear myself out before we get to the main event.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, but you’re so—fuck. I should put some oil on myself, too, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Y-yeah. That’ll help, but, d-do it after. Don’t take your fingers out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, sir,” Sylvain said, playfully saluting Ashe. Ashe wasn’t sure he’d ever giggled so much during sex, but Sylvain made it hard not to smile. “How are you feeling?”</p><p> </p><p>“Good enough for another finger,” Ashe responded. Sylvain nodded, licking his lips quickly. Ashe watched his ring finger flex a bit, as if to hesitate, before moving inwards towards Ashe’s hole and joining the other two. Ashe’s hand tightened into a fist. “Yeah, that’s...that’s good. Move them back and forth a bit.”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain parted his fingers a bit, and Ashe’s back arched at the stretching feeling. It was easier to feel the difference in size between their fingers when he did that. “Like that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, that’s...that’s good. Ah, I don’t wanna rush, but I really want you, Sylvain...”</p><p> </p><p>“The feeling’s mutual, baby. Can’t wait to feel you. How do you want me to do it? Huh? Wanna be on your back, just like this? Or do you want me to put you on all fours?”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe was suddenly jealous of all the girls that got to experience Sylvain’s bedroom talk before he did. Ashe wanted to respond, <em> do it all, take me in every way you can think of until my legs are shaking, </em> but Sylvain would almost certainly take it literally. “Your lap,” Ashe said, exhaling shakily. “Can I sit in your lap?”</p><p> </p><p>“Excellent choice,” Sylvain said, smiling. “Whenever you’re ready, Ashe.”</p><p> </p><p>“Now. I’ll be fine, just—go a little slow at first,” Ashe said. Sylvain tilted his head, unsure. “Really, I’m ready. C’mon...”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, okay.” Sylvain eased his fingers out, sitting up on his knees to remove his shirt. Ashe was pleasantly surprised to see that Sylvain wasn’t wearing anything under his pants. It seemed like Sylvain hadn’t been lying; he was at least eight inches, fully hard, with a slight curve at the head of his shaft. Ashe hadn’t meant to stare, but... “I’m guessing you like it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry,” Ashe mumbled. “Um, s-so, the oil...”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain picked up the bottle and unscrewed it again, pouring more oil into his hands. He handed it to Ashe to close that time, and Ashe did so, all while watching Sylvain begin to touch himself. Handsome, pretty, gorgeous—there were no words that could describe how Sylvain looked when he was doing that to himself. His chest expanded, shrank, slow but shaky, as he spread the oil over the length of his cock.</p><p> </p><p>“I never knew you were such a voyeur, Ashe,” Sylvain said, smirking through his breathlessness. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m not, I just...just waiting for you to be ready...”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m good to go,” Sylvain said. He sat next to Ashe near the headboard, although he was a little more upright. “Come on over.”</p><p> </p><p>It was hard for Ashe to pay attention when Sylvain was still jerking himself off, but he forced himself to, clambering over to Sylvain’s lap. He ended up facing away from Sylvain, still too shy to let Sylvain watch his face. Thankfully, Sylvain didn’t have any complaints. Ashe hovered over Sylvain’s thighs, his own legs on either side of Sylvain’s. “Gonna need your help guiding me down. I can’t really see your...”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re so cute, Ashe,” Sylvain cooed. “I could be really mean and make you say it, but you seem pretty desperate for it...”</p><p> </p><p><em> I am. I really, really am. </em> Ashe felt Sylvain’s hand on the back of his thigh, moving him to the side a bit. Then, he was being pulled down, spread open, and he felt the head of Sylvain’s prick pressing at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Please, please,” Ashe whispered, again and again, getting louder and needier until Sylvain was sinking inside of him. </p><p> </p><p>“Easy, there, Ashe. Fuck, you’re tight...didn’t know it’d feel like this. Oh, <em> wow.</em>” Ashe settled against Sylvain’s chest, leaning back and trying to relax. It was harder to do that around something as intrusive as Sylvain’s cock, as opposed to his fingers, but Sylvain’s airy moans and praises in his ear made it much easier. “You’re taking me so well, Ashe. Taking every inch of me...knew you’d be good for me.”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain’s hands went to Ashe’s narrow hips, moving him slowly so that he could adjust. It was like Ashe could feel every vein, every fold of Sylvain’s dick, pressing against his tightening walls and driving him insane. Even as he relaxed, loosened up, they still felt just as tightly connected. Ashe was glad Sylvain’s room was so sectioned off from the rest of the estate, because it was hard not to cry out. All the effort he’d put into seeming a little more manly for Sylvain’s approval was thrown out of the window with his high-pitched wails echoing off the walls.</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain surely didn’t seem to mind. Whenever Ashe got <em> just </em> loud enough, he’d grasp those hips a little tighter, bring Ashe down a little faster. The periodic bursts of speed weren’t quite enough for Ashe, though. “I’m okay, I’m g-good. Do it faster, please...”</p><p> </p><p>“Thought you’d never ask. Can I touch your chest a little, too?” Sylvain asked. Ashe nodded, then started to move on his own a bit, giving Sylvain’s hands more freedom. As Ashe began to ride, Sylvain’s hands drifted up to his nipples, which were stiff from arousal and the nippy air of the room. Sylvain ran his thumbs over them, then rolled them between his fingers. “Feels good?”</p><p> </p><p>“Y-yeah...”</p><p> </p><p>“Sensitive, aren’t you? Can I kiss your neck, too? Hm?”</p><p> </p><p>“Y-you can, but...I’m not sensitive, I just—”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe yelped a bit when Sylvain’s lips met his neck, sucking and kissing there. “Mm-hm,” Sylvain sing-songed. “Sure you’re not.”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe couldn’t help laughing at himself a bit, but it was hard to keep laughing when Sylvain was forcing more risque sounds out of him. His hands kept toying with Ashe’s chest, and his mouth kept finding new spots to leave hickeys at, and his hips were still thrusting up, surprisingly in-time with Ashe’s erratic hip swivels.</p><p> </p><p>“H-how are you feeling, Sylvain? It’s good, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Tighter than I expected,” he said. His voice had dipped a bit, quiet and ticklish to Ashe’s ears. “Pretty warm, too. It’s like I wanna...just stay buried in you, y’know?”</p><p> </p><p><em> That’s kinda cute. </em> “No, you’ve gotta keep moving...”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, I know. I won’t leave you high and dry, Ashe. Although, it’d be nice to see what kind of sounds you’d make if I teased you a bit...”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe whimpered at Sylvain’s suggestion. No, he couldn’t be denied any longer. Not after spending so much time <em> longing. </em> Their slow pace was refreshing, especially when compared to what Ashe had had so much of in the past—loveless, inconsiderate encounters that left him shaking in a way that didn’t feel good. So, it was nice to have Sylvain holding him, stimulating him all over, taking his time, but Ashe didn’t think that being loved and taken care of necessarily had to mean moving slowly.</p><p> </p><p>“We can do it a little faster, if you want to,” Ashe said. It would have been far too mortifying to beg for it outright, so he opted to go the coward’s route...</p><p> </p><p>But Sylvain wouldn’t let him. “Do I want to? Hm...I think I’ll stay just like this.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, no, y-you can...I want you to...” Ashe grunted when Sylvain pinched his nipples, urging him on. “I want you to fuck me faster, Sylvain, please...”</p><p> </p><p>“Ashe...sounding that sexy has got to be a crime,” Sylvain said, with not a hint of humor in his voice. “Tell me if you need me to slow up, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain crossed his arms over Ashe’s torso, putting him in a more secure position. Like that, it was easier for Sylvain to hold Ashe fast to his chest and thrust upward into him, taking control of their movements. Ashe moved about in his grasp, trying to adjust to the sudden change in pace. The position was perfect for him: he felt so adored, so cherished, so protected when Sylvain was hugging him close like that. That only made the euphoria bubbling inside of him hotter and hotter, knowing that Sylvain wanted him to be so close...</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t—don’t slow down, keep going, just like this,” Ashe pleaded.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you do something for me, Ashe? Can you touch yourself for me?”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe’s mind could hardly comprehend those words, so tantalizing and cool and coming from Sylvain’s mouth, directed towards <em> him. </em> But when Sylvain slowed down a little bit, his brain put itself back together. He brought his shaky hand up to his erection, which had been flopping a bit uselessly against his lower stomach for a bit. He was more than glad to pay it some attention; he wondered if Sylvain would ever make good on his desire to put that chatty mouth to use.</p><p> </p><p>For right then, though, quick and messy pumps of his hand was enough to satisfy him, in combination with Sylvain’s steady strokes. Sylvain had gotten a little rougher, in addition to the increase in speed. Ashe had long wondered if he’d ever be able to be truly fucked like that again without being afraid, without feeling used, but Sylvain’s lips and fingers and honey-coated words wouldn’t allow him to feel that way. He almost felt guilty with so much sheer pleasure coursing through his body, but he couldn’t bring himself to deny how good it felt.</p><p> </p><p>Ashe leaned back a little further, almost grinding against Sylvain as he did so. Sylvain was already doing so well, hitting the right spots without even trying, but Ashe’s hand on his cock was enough to make his legs start shaking. Sylvain took notice, groaning low and long at the sight. Could he see Ashe frantically jerking himself off? He was much taller than Ashe, so there was a possibility that he could see it even over Ashe’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>Seconds later, Ashe had his question answered, in a deep, rolling voice. “You look so hot, doing that to yourself. You ever touched yourself thinking about me? Huh?”</p><p> </p><p>Oh, Ashe was <em> definitely </em> going to be regretting some words the next day. “Y-yeah, I...of course I have...”</p><p> </p><p>“Wish I could’ve seen you, Ashe,” Sylvain said, genuine disappointment in his voice. “So desperate for me, putting your fingers inside, getting ready for me...I’ve done it too, pretty boy.” Ashe moved his hand a little faster, even more excited now that he knew Sylvain was watching him. “Thought about fucking you into my bed, touching your dick, being in your mouth...making love to you.”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain almost sounded delirious, rambling aimlessly until he was too breathless to continue, but that made the words no less effective. Ashe was near tears at the sound of him; Sylvain was giving him what he’d always dreamed of, and more. Ashe had no worries about their first time being so desperate, so frenzied. The thought of them having the rest of their lives to do it again and again was enough to ease the few worries that he had. </p><p> </p><p>“Ah, S-Sylvain, love you—love you so much,” Ashe said, his impulse taking over. “I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s so cute, Ashe,” Sylvain said, holding Ashe a little tighter. “I love you too. Love seeing you like this, love being with you...” Ashe’s free hand went to clutch Sylvain’s thigh, his nails digging in perhaps a little deeper than was comfortable. Ashe wondered if Sylvain liked the pain, since he started to move a little bit faster, but it turned out to be something else. “You’re so good, Ashe, so good for me. You close?”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe couldn’t even tell. He felt like he was living in a cheesy line of a romance novel, like him and Sylvain had become one. Sylvain was hot and heavy against him, reeling him in... “Y-yeah. You?”</p><p> </p><p>“Almost there.” Sylvain lifted a hand away from Ashe’s nipples, instead toying with his sweaty hair, teasing it away from his eyes. “We’re gonna have to do this another way, later. I wish I could see your face when you cum for me...”</p><p> </p><p>“Goddess, Sylvain, you can’t...say things like that,” Ashe gasped. It had been too long, too long since someone had touched him, too long since he started longing for it to be Sylvain. He was coming apart at the smallest things. </p><p> </p><p>“Why? You don’t like it? Seems like you do. You’re tensing up around me again, y’know.”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe sighed, tried to relax again, but it was impossible. He was anxious, but the good kind, excited for Sylvain to cum inside of him, for him to be <em> good </em> and <em> pretty </em> in Sylvain’s lap and finish for him. Every thrust drove him closer, and he gave Sylvain a moan or a cry or a whine for each one. He couldn’t even tell what he wanted anymore. He wanted Sylvain to fuck him, to keep holding him, to touch him elsewhere, to use his mouth, his hands, his words, everything. Ashe had never felt so insatiable before, but Sylvain brought that want out of him.</p><p> </p><p>And it felt so <em> good </em> to want like that. The only thing that felt better was the gratification that came from getting it, and Ashe got to feel that soon enough. He still felt so in-sync with Sylvain—when he heard Sylvain’s cocky, provocative moans devolve into guttural, feral noises of pleasure, and when Sylvain managed to hold him even <em> tighter, </em> he knew Sylvain was about to finish.</p><p> </p><p>Ashe hardly ever swore, but he couldn’t help the shuddery “<em>fuck</em>” that passed his lips when Sylvain finally brought a hand to Ashe’s cock, still thrusting in earnest as he pumped Ashe in the hole of his fist. Both of them came undone at that; Ashe was taken by surprise when his legs tensed and he began spilling into Sylvain’s palm, only to feel the same sticky heat coating his insides moments later.</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain’s lips came to rest at Ashe’s shoulder, shifting this way and that with every leg-shaking thrust. His handle on Ashe’s dick grew almost painful at times with its intensity, but Ashe couldn’t even find the words to complain, when Sylvain was still making him see stars with every jerk of his hips. Ashe slumped backwards, trying to catch his breath. Sylvain wasn’t quite finished yet, although he noticed Ashe’s tired state and slowed down accordingly.</p><p> </p><p>At last, Sylvain’s arms loosened up, but Ashe felt a bit unsteady without Sylvain holding him upright. Again, Sylvain was attentive, returning one hand to Ashe’s hip and the other to his shoulder. “Ashe? You alright?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh...” Ashe tried to steady his breath again, and failed. “Exhausted.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a good thing, right?” Ashe wished he had the energy to laugh, but he could hardly manage a weak smile. How much stamina did Sylvain have, exactly, to bounce back so quickly...? Maybe Ashe’s dry spell had been a bit too long. “Alright, kiddo. Let’s lay you down. I’m gonna move you, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Slow,” Ashe reminded. Sylvain nodded behind him, both of his hands moving to Ashe’s hips in a move that was almost <em> too </em> sensual. With minimal effort from Ashe, Sylvain lifted him up, letting his deflating shaft slip out. Ashe squirmed a bit at the feeling of Sylvain’s seed seeping out of him. It felt...less disgusting than usual, but that might have been the post-orgasm high speaking. Sylvain rolled Ashe over onto his side, snuggling up against his back. “We’re filthy.”</p><p> </p><p>“I could go run us a bath. Not sure if your legs work well enough to take you there, though.”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe managed a chuckle that time. “You seem very confident in your performance, Margrave.”</p><p> </p><p>“What? It wasn’t good? Don’t tell me that. You left a nice present on my hand, just in case you forgot.”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe furrowed his brow, rolling over. Sylvain was holding up his right hand, which was coated in Ashe’s spunk. “Sylvain, why are you...just wipe it off with a handkerchief or something.”</p><p> </p><p>“Isn’t that a waste? There are people <em> starving, </em> Ashe. I can’t throw away a good snack.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t be serious.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve always wondered how it tasted,” Sylvain said. He looked at his hand, and considered it for a moment, before bringing his pointer finger to his lips and popping it in. After he was finished with that, he went for another. And another, and another, until his hand was clean of everything but his spit.</p><p> </p><p>Ashe blinked, and Sylvain stared back, licking his lips. “Well?”</p><p> </p><p>“Is everything you make a gourmet dish?”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe draped an arm over his eyes. At least he had someone to share his love of bad jokes with...although Sylvain was less on the side of “bad jokes” and more on the side of “tasteless jokes”. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain laughed—but not before licking his lips one more time, Ashe noticed. He draped his arm over Ashe, much like he’d done earlier, right before they kissed. Ashe was almost in disbelief at how quickly things had escalated between them, but he wouldn’t have changed a thing.</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain must have been thinking similarly. Suddenly, he said, “I’m sort of used to, like, this feeling of dread after I’m done with someone. Not regret, but just...’fuck, what next’. But I’m not getting that right now. I guess that means it’s love.”</p><p> </p><p>“It might just be that neither of us are used to cuddling afterwards,” Ashe said. Then, quickly, he added, “That doesn’t mean it’s not love though! Because it is! But, also—”</p><p> </p><p>“Relax, Ashe. We’re good. It’s all good,” Sylvain said. “This is...really good. You and me. I can’t believe I managed to do this. Just, you...having you here...I’m so lucky. I’m usually pretty lucky, but never like this.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Getting me is...being lucky? </em>“I must be lucky, too.”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain yawned a bit, snuggling closer. “I’ve got to teach you some more chess tomorrow. Ah, and we should walk around the estate grounds a little more...’cause I hope you’ll be coming by often.”</p><p> </p><p>“I want to,” Ashe said. “But I don’t like leaving my siblings behind for too long...”</p><p> </p><p>“Hell, bring ‘em over. You already saw how many rooms we’ve got in this place. Besides, I’d...I’d like to meet them. If that’s okay. I’m good with kids, no dirty jokes, I swear.”</p><p> </p><p>Ashe’s heart kicked up again. Sylvain wanted to meet his siblings. His family. He wanted him to come back, he wanted to see Ashe again, and—oh, Goddess, it was actually real. “Yeah,” Ashe breathed. “They’ve heard a bit about you...”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, yeah? What’d you tell them? That I’m hot? It’s okay, you can admit it.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I told them to run in the other direction if they ever managed to catch a glimpse of you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, I see. You’d get jealous if they spoke to me for too long?”</p><p> </p><p><em> He’s too clever. </em> “Teach me how to play chess tomorrow. How to play better. And when I bring them over, we can teach them, too.”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain smiled, pulling the blankets over them again. “I’m a tough teacher, Ashe.”</p><p> </p><p>“Will I get a reward if I’m good?”</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm a bad influence on you."</p><p> </p><p>Ashe hadn't even realized how salacious he'd sounded until the words left his lips. "You really are..."</p><p> </p><p>"That's alright. You can be my bad influence, too. Teach me all about how to cook naughty dishes, and plant lewd herbs," Sylvain said, finishing off with a wink.</p><p> </p><p><em>How did he manage to make that sound attractive?</em> "Tomorrow," Ashe said, snuggling closer. "You wore me out. We've got all day tomorrow to do whatever, so...let me get my energy back so we can make the most of it. 'Kay?"</p><p> </p><p>"Alright, alright. Good night, sleepyhead." Sylvain gave Ashe a kiss on the top of his head, and Ashe shut his eyes, wondering how such a small gesture could make him feel like his entire being, right down to his soul, was lit aflame. All those years of wanting, and Sylvain was right there—Ashe didn't know what to do with himself. It all felt so temporary, like it was a dream he'd wake up from at the drop of a pin.</p><p> </p><p>He sighed into Sylvain's bare chest, gathered himself. No, that wasn't true. He was right: they had all day tomorrow, and all day of the next day. And even when Ashe went back home, they'd still have forever. After being afraid that he'd spend his whole life searching, always second-guessing and wondering if it was real...</p><p> </p><p>He'd finally found it.</p>
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